


Taste Testing

by Pinkgrasshopper



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Inadvertent Makeouts, Innuendo, M/M, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3062327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkgrasshopper/pseuds/Pinkgrasshopper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well, yeah, I’m not going to eat you. I just want to taste you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste Testing

"I guess it’s healed, huh?"

A familiar male voice snaps him back from whatever musings Rei had indulged in this time, lost to warm sunset lights and the gentle sloshing of sea foam kissing his feet. In the back of his mind, he notices this is how he has been spending his summer days as of late, all wandering gazes and a million questions just waiting to break out of his brain in torrential curiosity. It’s unlike himself, and though he’s considerate not to say it out loud, he knows the only one to blame is the unlikely companion by his side.

"Your arm, I mean," The companion elaborates, giving Rei a long, expectant look. At first sight, Rin is just another young man around his same age, with delicate features framed by red and eyes to match his hair— a palette that greatly contrasts with his pale complexion, yet somehow he can work it to his benefit. He’s beautiful, truly a view to behold, and Rei has to wonder if that natural enchantment scares him or just further entices him into a deadly trap. "It’s healed, right?"

"Ah, yes, it is," Rei offers a tentative smile, and his fingers reach for the scars on his right arm out of instinct. "I had the stitches removed earlier today, though it’s still a little sore."

"See, I knew it! I couldn’t smell any blood anymore, so I could tell it was all better!"

There’s something utterly adorable about the toothy grin stamped on Rin’s face, bright and victorious and not very different from a child showing off newly acquired knowledge, but it makes him uncomfortable all the same, perhaps even more so than his wording. “Could you… please not say it like that, at least for now? It’s still a little…”

"Ah. I get it. Sorry."

They fall quiet for a minute or two, and it’s silence that is only broken by the sounds of waves, dancing to the rhythm of the tide in the distance and crashing on the shore in a small parade of rivulets, and the occasional splash of a tail on water. A large, fish-like tail with a triangular dorsal fin, the ominous mark of a shark and the main reason for wariness to settle between the two— because merfolk were not supposed to be real, because they were still learning how to adapt to each other, and because the very image of Rin’s lower body was enough to send shivers up Rei’s spine; so did the upper half, but for very different reasons.

"I hope I can do something about these scars later," Rei is first to speak, trying to steer their interactions away from uncomfortable silences and on to a topic they both can handle. "They don’t look beautiful at all."

"I think they look fine," Rin shrugs, and it’s clear from his hooked eyebrows that he honestly doesn’t get where Rei is coming from. "For a shark, having a lot of scars is a sign of strength; it means you got in a lot of scuffles and won. That’s something to be proud of, right?"

"But I’m not a shark."

"That’s even better, isn’t it? You get to tell everyone you survived a scuffle with a shark, and in one piece, too!"

"A baby shark, you mean. Some scuffle that was…"

"Doesn’t matter. A shark is a shark!"

For all his attempts at being supportive, Rin may sound just a little too cocky about the ferocious might of his fellow sharks, his relatives of sorts; yet, when he makes a move for the injured limb, he is everything but, careful in his handling of skin and reddened tissue, and it’s maybe this soothing touch that has Rei willingly surrendering his arm to him. He lets Rin inspect puncture wounds and run a finger down the length of a gash or another, marks he’d surely gotten from a premature withdrawal from the predator’s jaws. It’s amazing, really, how much the merman was mesmerized by them. It’s something he’s never seen before.

But Rin’s fascination pales in comparison to Rei’s own, awestruck and grateful for having come out of that incident alive at all; that miracle, too, had a name.

"If you hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have been as fortunate," He starts, his smile safe from Rin’s otherwise curious scrutiny. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah, you’ve said this enough. Just make sure not to go falling off boats again, at least when I’m not around."

"Or when bigger sharks are close by."

"Bigger sharks aren’t a problem," Rin cuts through Rei’s attempt at a joke, still unused to reading social cues and taking things at face value. "It’s the young ones you have to watch out for. If they see something strange in the water, they’ll poke at it and bite to see if it’s food."

"But doesn’t that mean bigger sharks know humans are, well, prey?" The word alone is a reminder of his whole ordeal in the past, and keeping his composure as he goes on doesn’t come without effort. "Logically, that also means they would be more prone to attacking."

"If they’re starving, I guess. Human meat tastes bad."

"Excuse me?!"

"Hey, hey, relax!"  Rin throws his hands up, placating despite his obvious grin. "It’s just what I heard, okay? I mean, I’ve never attacked a human before, so all I know are rumors."

"I… see," This seems to put Rei at ease, somewhat, though he can already feel this line of conversation straining beyond return. "I suppose that would be something akin to cannibalism to you."

"Huh? What’s that?"

"Cannibalism?" This is definitely out of his comfort zone, but the nod and the look Rin gives him are so eager to learn that he just can’t resist this plea for knowledge. "A cannibal is what we call someone who eats one of their own species. It’s an abnormal behavioral pattern, though. A pathology, even."

"One of their own species…" Rin has long tuned out of Rei’s explanation, focused on the bits of information most relevant to his interests. "So you’re saying… You think I’m human, too?"

"I think you’re part human, yes. Not just physically speaking, either, but especially some of your own behavioral patterns," Rin’s face scrunches up in confusion at the last set of words, but Rei is quick to shed better light. "The way you act and the things you do, I mean."

"Like what?"

"Like your insatiable curiosity, for one," It’s supposed to be a minor, light-hearted jab at his incessant questioning, but that one, too, seems to go right over his head. A more straightforward, earnest approach might work best. "And… your empathy, too. You rescued me, and cared about my condition afterwards, and those are things humans do when they feel even a small level of attachment to someone else. Something a kind, decent human being would do, at least."

There’s sudden pressure in his hand, but Rei doesn’t have the heart to ask him to stop squeezing so hard. Luckily, he lets up a minute later, drawing idle patterns on Rei’s knuckles instead as he tries to figure out the workings of his existential crisis; half of him is part of the sea, the other belongs on land, yet there’s no place he can really call his own, no element where can feel truly comfortable. All he has are these moments, still far and few in between, all too short to learn and understand about a life of inadequacy, but made all the more important with each small realization. Like this, he’s complete, and happier than he’s ever been before. Like this, he’s not just two halves; he’s whole.

And he doesn’t know if that is just human nature, if all people feel the same way about each other as he does about Rei or if it’s something just between the two of them, but right now, he’s not going to look for any new labels. He’s recently learned to call it gratitude, and so far that is good enough.

“Yeah, well,” Rin feels a sudden warmth he can’t explain, bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck. “Sharks can be curious, too, you know.”

"So you’ve told me."

"And all this talk about curiosity is only making me more curious!"

"Oh? And what are you curious about?”

His hand drops by his hips, and Rei is about ninety percent sure the side glance he earns from Rin is a prelude to catastrophe.

"I want to know what humans taste like."

As though perfectly synchronized, Rei’s benevolent smile fades and turns upside down with every newly exposed inch of serrated teeth. “I thought we had established I’m not food?”

"Well, yeah, I’m not going to eat you. I just want to taste you."

“How is that any better?!”

“It’s just a taste?” The merman shrugs it off again, in all simplicity of thought. “I won’t rip off any chunks of you or leave scars or anything. You’re not scared of me, are you?”

Rei is not one to lie, and the truth almost escapes him when he parts his lips to speak, but he stops himself in time not to hurt Rin’s feelings—it’s an irrational fear, he knows, and the merman has done nothing but help him so far, but shock and trauma don’t wear off as easily. Perhaps he can work on a compromise.

“I’m scared of your teeth.”

“Ah,” A pause, and thankfully he doesn’t sound too upset or offended. “What if I promise not to use them much? Would that be okay?”

_No,_ but he isn’t going to say that, either. “Suppose it does, for argument’s sake. How would you even go about doing that?”

“You’re just going to have to trust me on that.”

Lavender meets crimson, and surely enough, there is that huge, expectant look plastered on Rin’s face again, this time also heavily tinted with sheer resolve. Their friendship hangs on the balance more often than not, and it’s little gestures like these that can tip the scales in their favor; a small leap of faith, so to speak. And all awkwardness and inappropriate thoughts aside, it’s not much that Rin is asking of him, definitely not enough to repay him for saving his life. It’s what he must do.

Perhaps one day he’ll come to admit he doesn’t do it out of obligation only, but if his folded arms and pointed avoiding of red eyes are any indication, that realization is no news to him. “If you hurt me, I’m never coming back here to see you again.”

Rin flashes him a victorious grin in response, and that alone is almost enough reason for regret, but Rei stays put, somehow, despite the blood-dyed stare scanning every inch of his body.

He’s careful to select where to settle, and perhaps it’s because he’s out of his element, but Rin certainly doesn’t launch an attack like a shark would; instead, there’s something more sinuous about his moves, the way he hauls himself closer with only the strength of his toned arms – his fins occasionally flap about, all but useless on land – and lets his fingers deliberately roam across the broad expanse of Rei’s chest— and to this day, he still doesn’t get this human compulsion for hiding so much of their skin underneath layers of fabric even when it’s so hot outside, but that’s a question for another day. He’s found his spot.

A sharp intake of breath is heard from Rei when Rin tugs at his collar, and he nearly turns to stone when the tip of the merman’s nose touches his neck, running from base to jaw in slow strokes and leaving a warm trail on its wake with every whiff he inhales. With his lips, he suckles on skin and tension, and his tongue runs meticulous laps over sensitive areas, hoping to lick off every last trace of fear. It’s wet, and tempting in all its heat, and by the time his gnashers barely scrape the junction at his shoulder, Rei finds himself melting into the feeling, leaning into the assault, encouraging. Like he’s no willing prey, but the one having a taste instead.

When Rin pulls away, his eyes are starting to glaze over, hot breath reflected on hot breath. It’s a miracle their proximity doesn’t draw him in, doesn’t lure him into an open-mouthed crash of lips that Rei would later have to explain as a kiss, but they keep their distance, shoulders heaving and panting for more.

“Uh,” Rei starts in all his eloquence, fingers pushing up his glasses in a hurried, makeshift shelter for his flustered countenance. “I think that was plenty of taste-testing.”

“For now, yeah.”

“What do you mean _, for now?!_ ”

“For now means for now!”

It seemed no amount of indignant staring or feigned hurt could faze Rin out of his mischievous state of triumph, so Rei gives up after the first minute or so. The merman doesn’t completely roll off him, either, choosing the side of Rei’s arm as the most comfortable place to recline against, his back arched and a dreamy sigh spilling forth. Way, way too much like a cat.  

“So,” Rei rehearses a question, chalking it up to Rin’s contagious curiosity. “What’s your final verdict?”

A pause for suspense later, Rin pours his head back, as lethargic as his grin is predatory. “I could feast on you all day.”

And it’s hard to tell whether Rin is teasing him for his reasonable fear or if he’s somehow learned the ropes of insinuating ambiguity and the art of innuendo, but an awkward chuckle is a response that works both ways, as do Rei’s following words.

“Well. So long as you don’t tell the other sharks about that.”


End file.
